


To Have and To Hold

by GarnetGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Forced Marriage, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Marriage, Marriage Law Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetGirl/pseuds/GarnetGirl
Summary: Eight years after the end of the Second Wizarding War, an archaic marriage law pairs Hermione and Draco together. Having barely come into contact with each other since Draco's trial, will old wounds resurface?Blind to the mechanisms of a mysterious matching charm, and without any other options, how will Hermione and Draco fare navigating this new law?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	To Have and To Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone who clicks on this story! As a long time fanfiction reader and lurker, I am now dipping my toes into the writing pond. I know marriage laws are a well worn HP trope, but I love reading them, and I love HG/DM pairings. Please be kind in the comments, as it's my first time writing fiction in many years. I am of course, open to constructive criticism. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter, I just like to play in this world.

Hermione had never abided the subject of divination, but that didn’t stop her from waking up and feeling like something bad was going to happen today. Of course, it wasn’t all instinct. Things had been increasingly tense these past few weeks in the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There had been an uptick in visitors from the Department of Mysteries too. Usually, an unspeakable only deigned to visit the DMLE if they were intrigued by a particularly unusual cursed object that had recently been confiscated. There visits were short, and punctuated by comments about Aurors “having the delicacy of a hippogriff” and their “incapability to answer any question a sphynx would throw at them”. Dark object in hand, scowling was apparently compulsory until you reached the lift.

Yesterday should have been a normal, boring Wednesday. Instead, there were protracted periods of anxious silence followed by flurries of activity. Unspeakables darting in and out of one of the main meeting rooms and not one but _three_ visits from the undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. The only thing worse than the atmosphere in the in DMLE was not knowing what fuck was causing it.

Hermione sighed and rolled out of bed, piling her hair on top of her head before stepping in the shower. Growing her hair out to past her waist made it less thatch-like, more pretty-curly, but that meant it was a bugger to wash. Her mind was on the illegal magical transportation case. It was coming up for trial in a few weeks, but she thought Martins was going to take it easy on the defendant. After all, when muggles were the only aggrieved party, was the crime _really_ that bad? She stepped out the shower, making her way over to the wardrobe. She selected a blouse cut lower than usual to go with her pencil skirt. She thought she’d wear some higher heels today too. Hermione wasn’t above using her body to distract Martins into handing over the case…

Thermos filled with strong black coffee in hand, along with a morning muffin, she made her way out of her London flat. The walk to the apparition point was quiet, the city just beginning to wake up. A pop and a few moments of nausea and Hermione was walking into the Ministry entrance, heels clicking on the marble floor. Nodding to a dozing Bertie as she went passed security, she headed up to her office. Hermione loved getting to work this early. It was peaceful, there was time to think and plan strategy, and no one jostled her in the lift.

Her office was cramped, but it was private. She knocked out some paperwork before getting started on researching precedents and developing strategy for her burglary case. Being a classic overachiever, Hermione wasn’t specialising in being a prosecutor or a defence lawyer, turning her hand to any case where someone couldn’t afford their legal representation. Harry ribbed her constantly that when it came to the department she was net zero, just as good at getting criminals off as locking them away. The defendant had stolen rather specific items, and she suspected it was a mental compulsion rather than a real desire to profit from thievery.

In truth, the events of the war had completely put her off pursuing a career as an Auror. She’d had her fill of danger and duelling. No, it was only in the aftermath that she realised what she wanted, no, needed to do. And the inspiration had come during Draco Malfoy’s trial.

In those days after the war, no private lawyer would represent a Death Eater, no matter how many galleons they were offering. Nobody wanted to be viewed as a sympathiser. The representation provided to the Malfoys was pitiful, and it was only testimony from Harry, Ron and Hermione that led to Draco receiving only house arrest, rather than a stint in Azkaban. Lucius was sent back to prison, but Narcissa joined her son under house arrest after Harry’s testimonial. It was at that moment that Hermione realised that everyone should be given equal representation. Not everyone would have the _chosen one_ vouching for them.

The work engrossed her completely, but she was disrupted by a memo whizzing underneath her door and onto the desk, the point of the paper plane crumpling slightly upon contact. Frowning, she unfolded it.

_Ministry Mandated Appointment for Miss Hermione Granger. 11:45, Level 7, Room 4B._

The note was vague enough to make her feel nervous. Why was she trudging several floors away, for what purpose? Surely she wasn’t due for a performance review. Besides, her record was excellent. The meeting left just over an hour for her to make more progress on her defence, so she dived back in to the book open on her desk. But Hermione wasn’t quite able to shake the nagging feeling in her gut.

*****

The appointment time rolled around, and Hermione stood up, stretching her arms above her head. She grabbed the memo to remind her of the room, and holstered her wand before heading out.

“Hermione. Hermione!” Harry called for her from behind. She glanced around to see him jogging up to her.

“Have you read this?” he asked, waving _The Daily Prophet_ in front of her face.

“Don’t be silly Harry, I haven’t bought that paper in years.”

His face was pale as he handed her the paper. She didn’t have to look past the first page to know what had given him such a pallor.

_Minister for Magic Passes Marriage Law, Recruitment Begins Today_

_This reporter can reveal that yesterday evening the Minister for Magic passed a law to boost the birth rate in the United Kingdom, which has fallen sharply following the Second Wizarding War eight years ago. A charm developed by the Department of Mysteries will match all heterosexual witches and wizards that are currently unmarried and of birthing age. Punishment for refusing a match is rumoured to be a long sentence in Azkaban. The first matches are to be notified today, but the Daily Prophet has been unable to identify how many pairings will be made in the first wave. A ministry insider has also suggested that couples already married still able to have children will be offered incentives to aid the attempts to increase the number of magical children. Our insider would not clarify what these benefits would be. This reporter will be keeping eyes and ears open for new developments, but in the meantime, have your say on the new law by owling us. Is this a breach of civil liberties or a welcome return to the arranged marriages common to 19 th century wizarding Britain? We’ll be featuring your responses in a special, expanded column of The Weekend Prophet. _

Hermione felt the panic bloom in her chest, her breath quickening to match the thumping of her heart. She looked down at the memo, so innocuous before, on pretty lavender paper. She had crumpled it slightly when she’d picked it up off the desk. Level 7, Room 4B. She wished it had never arrived, that the whole day could be taken back. She passed the paper back to Harry. How awful, to have your future delivered by a memo.

“Harry...” she whispered, showing him the memo. “I think,” she swallowed, “I think this meeting is about the law.”

“Those rooms haven’t been used in years. Oh fuck, no. Not you Hermione, it can’t be. After what we’ve done...”

Their hushed conversation in the hallway was drawing a few stares. Hermione didn’t want anyone scrutinising her right now.

“Listen, Harry, I’ve got to go. I have to find out what this is,” Hermione said. She didn’t wait for Harry’s response, striding away from him as fast as her heels would let her. She clutched the memo in her hand, even though now she thought she would never forget the room ever again. Level 7, Room 4B. The place where her life would change. Making her way there, she felt as if everyone _knew_. She didn’t let herself hesitate at the door, knocking brusquely before her brain caught up with her actions.

“Come in,” called a male voice. Of course a man would be telling her how she was to live her life now.

As she entered, she realised there was a second person in the room, his back to her in a plush armchair. Unfortunately, he was completely recognisable. She would know that blonde hair anywhere, whether it was slicked back as it had been in school, or artfully tousled as it was now. Her stomach dropped down to her feet, the queasy feeling she’d had this morning after apparating returning.

“Ah Miss Granger,” the man said, “I’m Derek McMillan. Hopefully you’re already aware of the new law.” He coughed. “You’re here to meet your magical match, would you have a seat?” He gestured to the other armchair.

Hermione hovered, trying to take it all in, trying to move her legs, trying to keep her breathing under control. Draco turned in his seat to look at her. His face was the complete opposite of how she felt. Impassive and composed, he replied, “I believe we are already well acquainted.”


End file.
